Move On
by Mickey Sixx
Summary: [TenRose] Sometimes it's hard to move on. But it has to be done. [PostDoomsday, Oneshot]


**Title:** Move On  
**Word Count: **1,143**  
Rating: **FRC/PG**  
Prompt: **10. Somewhere – Within Temptation**  
Spoilers: **Doomsday**.  
Disclaimer: **Not mine, all characters mentioned in this fic are the creation of Russel T. Davis and various other people. Nick, Molly and Jack are my creations.  
**  
Author's Note: **Ok, so here is my first Doomsday!fic. This kinda just sprang up, fully formed when I heard this song. I wrote it last night, when I was completely knackered, so forgive me if it's a little strange in places. Hopefully people will like it. If not, please don't throw rotten tomatoes at me? It's a bitch to get out.  
**  
Summary: **Sometimes, it's hard to move on. But it has to be done.

* * *

_I'll find you somewhere  
I'll keep on trying until my dying day  
I just need to know whatever has happened,  
The Truth will free my soul._

-- Somewhere - Within Temptation

* * *

She never stopped looking for him. At first she was almost obsessive about it. Converse trainers half covered by the hems of suit trousers were easily picked out, and her heart hammered beneath her ribcage and her eyes wildly flew up to the head. Disappointment shot through her, her heart slowing down and aching in the process. Black, not brown. Short, not messy. And on one occasion, ginger. That had raised a smile, but it didn't change the same painful jolt to her heart.

It was her mother who had brought her to her senses. After 6 months of watching her daughter go through the same routine, the same giddying hope and the same crushing pain, she had finally put her foot down. Enough was enough. They'd shouted and screamed at each other all night and by the end of it, cried with each other. Rose listened, and thought. She thought long and hard, about everything and nothing. Eventually, Rose agreed.

She moved on. Slowly at first, but as time went on she found it easier. She never gave up though. He had told her that they'd never meet again. On a cold and lonely beach in Norway. She could almost hear it in his voice: Impossible. It was never going to happen.

He had always liked Impossible.

She got married. She became Mrs Nick Crawford two weeks shy of her twenty-sixth birthday. Tall, handsome, blond hair, blue eyes. He was kind, considerate, passionate. He loved her. She loved him. But not as much as she thought she should have. If he noticed the way her eyes shined when they locked on to a tan coloured over-coat, he never said anything.

Mickey was still around, and they were still friends. They often went out to dinner together or drinking in the local pub with Jake. That had surprised her slightly, but she didn't mind. It was about time he found someone who loved him as much as he loved them.

By the time she was thirty-four she lived in a spacious four-bedroom house with Nick and two beautiful children. She loved Molly and Jack with all her heart, and watched them grow and develop into beautiful people. She often told them stories of different worlds where strange creatures lived, and a Princess and a Prince that were constantly running for their lives. Sometimes the Prince would save the Princess and sometimes the Princess would save the Prince, because the Prince wouldn't know when to stop talking.

Jack and Molly grew up, got married, had children of their own and achieved all that they wanted to. Rose grew older, frailer, but still happy to be Grandma Rosie to three darling little girls and two cheeky little boys. Her body started to age, but her mind stayed with her. She watched as her grandchildren matured into fine young men and women.

Not long after their fiftieth wedding anniversary, Nick's heart gave out. He died at the age of seventy-nine, leaving Rose widowed. She mourned his loss with her tears, but she would always remember him. Just like she always remembered Him.

Rose's health got worse and she found that she needed more help than she wanted to admit to. She was taken into a hospice centre as her body started to fail her. Molly and Jack looked after her well, and visited her regularly, as did her grandchildren and her great-grandchildren. She knew she was near the end of her long, adventurous life. She was happy with that. She had done all she had wanted to do, and seen more than she imagined was possible. She was lucky. She knew that now.

Lying in-between the crisp white sheets, her eyes gazed out of the window. Seeing and not seeing. She heard the nurse come in and tell her she had a visitor, but she didn't acknowledge it. Someone cleared their throat, but she still didn't turn.

"Rose."

One word. Just one. Unfocused eyes suddenly sharpened, the lids falling over them. A jagged intake of breath through parted lips down a rapidly drying throat. She swallowed when a warm hand covered one of hers on the bed. Slowly, as if in a dream, she turned her head to look.

Sparkling brown eyes, crinkled at the edges with the small smile that formed on the perfect lips. Messy brown tufts of hair sticking up every-which-way. The tan collar of the overcoat covering the collar of the brown suit that covered the collar of the white shirt that was fixed with a red tie.

"Hello."

She smiled like she hadn't smiled in months. It threatened to split her face in two and light the whole building at the same time.

"Is it...?" She whispered, "Is it really...?"

He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Yes."

"But...how?"

"It's not important." He dismissed. She gave him a look, which he returned. She let it go.

They didn't say anything else. They didn't need to. He held on to her hand like a drowning man to a buoy. The minutes ticked by and he stayed by her side, sitting in the not-so-comfortable chair by the side of the bed. He had all the time in the world.

She knew. It was almost an instinct. Her internal clock was approaching its last few minutes, and she found that she wasn't worried. She wasn't scared. She was happy. She couldn't have thought of a better way to spend her remaining time on earth than with Him.

She turned to him and smiled. "It's time for me to go."

He looked at her, throwing her a maddening smile and shook his head.

"I don't think so." He replied. She continued to stare at him, and the smile fell. He knew too. His eyes shined, and one lone tear broke free and fell.

"I was too late." He whispered. She smiled again and reached over to cup his face, wiping the tear way with her thumb. She shook her head.

"You were just in time."

"I love you."

Her eyes twinkled, and he saw a flash of a young Rose Tyler behind the wise brown irises, smiling cheekily at him with her tongue between her teeth.

"Quite right too." She replied. He sniffed and smiled back.

"I deserved that."

They stayed that way until her eyes slowly drifted shut and her and fell from his cheek. He didn't move for five long minutes, choosing to stare at Rose's peaceful face until his vision blurred and her face was no longer distinguishable. He stood slowly from the chair and leant over Rose's still body. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and then left.

And that was how Molly Crawford found her mother not two minutes after. Eyes closed, hands laid neatly on top of the covers, and a small, peaceful smile gracing her lips.


End file.
